Timeslip
by Zahri Seb Melitor
Summary: A train accident wasn’t how Harry planned to start 6th year. With the Hextet thrown into 1976, they find a society struggling to define its future. The story of a journey of learning, struggle & loss, as they go home the only way possible-a day at a tim
1. P: Paranoid Old Auror

_**Author's note:** I'll take this bit of your time to thank Mica and Julie, Susan and Pauline for all their betawork efforts. This wouldn't be here without all your help - I'd probably still be panicking with this hidden on my harddrive.  
_

_  
**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, his friends and his adventures belong to Jo Rowling. The crazy trains are modelled after the over two dozen British railway companies and Sydney, Australia's Cityrail. I don't want ownership of them - they're too messed up as it is.  
_

**Prologue: Paranoid Old Auror**   
by Zahri Seb Melitor

They were going to crash.

Hermione closed her eyes, panicking as the car abruptly changed direction and drove across four lanes of traffic to enter a smaller side road. Beside her, Ron rocked backwards and forwards, muttering quietly to himself, while Ginny maintained a death-grip on Harry's arm. From the passenger seat in the front, Tonks raved.

"Are you _insane_? I don't care about laying false trails or evading pursuit! If we don't drive directly, we're _never_ going to get the kids on the train, Mad-Eye!"

The car slowed down slightly and swung around to re-enter traffic. Hermione cautiously opened one eye to peek at the front seats. Moody crouched over the steering wheel possessively, a chauffer's cap tilted rakishly over his magical eye, while Tonks swatted him with a road map.

It was a familiar sight after the summer holidays, one that Hermione had seen several times while the two were on Harry-minding duty. According to Ron, ever since Harry had arrived at the Burrow two weeks before his birthday, several adults had always been hovering around him. Moody had even forbidden Harry, Ron had said with a chuckle, from helping de-gnome the garden. When the retired Auror had been muttering about the dangers of gnomes, Ron had carefully pointed out Moody would want to be sure that all the gnomes were removed. Moody, Bill, Mundungus Fletcher and Kingsley Shacklebolt had then taken over de-gnoming duty, leaving Ron with no other option, according to Ron, than to thrash Harry in chess again. Oddly enough, Hermione had never heard Harry complaining about the constant minders, even in private; he seemed resigned to the situation. That resignation had to have appeared before she arrived at the Burrow for Harry's birthday.

On Harry's birthday the Order had relaxed their strict security rules and allowed a game of Quidditch in the field. Ron, Harry, George and Tonks had played Bill, Ginny, Fred and Kingsley. Moody had sat next to Hermione on the edge of the field, constantly muttering about the security risk the game posed. He had called a halt to the match three times because of an apparent threat: a helicopter passing; a flock of pigeons flying overhead; and the last time because the shadows were getting too long. Tonks had whacked Moody with her broom when she found out that they had been called in a third time for no reason other than Moody simply being grumpy because he saw the Quidditch match as a breach of vigilance.

"What's the time? I don't particularly wish to miss the Express again. That excitement was enough for me in second-year." Harry leaned forward, looking extremely frustrated, to the point that he could not keep the irritation out of his voice. He tried to see around the seat and looked a little green from all the changes of direction.

Hermione checked her watch and groaned. "It's ten fifteen, Harry. Professor Moody, we're going to be late!" They had three quarters of an hour until the Hogwarts Express left, but if they didn't drive directly from now on they would not make it in time. And if Hermione and Ron missed the train, Professor McGonagall would be angry. All of the prefects were expected to be present and alert on the train because of all the Death Eaters roaming around, and the possibility of an attack on the train. Logically, she was aware that she would not get into major trouble for something that was simply the fault of Moody's overzealous safety precautions. However, the irrational worry still remained, the product of years of looking out for Harry when he was getting into trouble, and she would really rather not have to explain the situation to Professor McGonagall.

Looking out the front windscreen, Hermione spotted a mass of barely-moving vehicles ahead, a flashing red light in their midst. She leaned back and closed her eyes with a long-suffering sigh. A traffic accident. What a perfect addition to an already dreadful morning.

"What was the point of getting hold of a magical car if you're not going to use it? It's not as if the car couldn't just slip past the traffic jam ahead!" Tonks' voice was getting louder and louder as she grew more and more fractious. "The car already has Repelling Charms on it, and the strongest Disregard Charm that I could find! I even tied bunches of forget-mes to the windscreen wipers!

Hermione stared at the front windscreen. She spotted the small posies of red forget-mes, a magical version of forget-me-nots that actively encouraged those near them to ignore the flower.

Moody muttered, "Don't you think it might be a wee bit noticeable if a Muggle spots this car moving ahead in the traffic? All three of your precautions have been known to fail."

Ginny groaned. "We're never going to get there – we're going to be stuck here for the rest of our little lives until we die of old age or a Death Eater finds us."

"Don't be silly, Ginny!" Hermione was distinctly annoyed. "It won't take that long." _For all it seemed to_, she added to herself.

Harry chuckled. "We could get out and walk. It might be faster."

Tonks turned around to look at the back seat. "If Moody would just _keep the car moving_, then we would almost be there by now."

Ron looked up from his protective huddle. Hermione could just hear the constant flow of invective that he was muttering, and her cheeks became red. Some of those words even _Charlie_ would have called Ron up on. "Moody? Actually get us to a destination when he said he would? Not take the most circuitous route? Next you'll be telling me about the invitation to tea that you and your mother received from Narcissa Malfoy, Tonks."

Tonks' face tightened. "Dear Aunty Narcissa tried that during the last war, as a final attempt to get Mum to be a proper pure-blooded Black scion. It didn't work. Mum loves me and Dad too much."

Hermione did not know what to say. Ron, however, shuddered. "It's times like that that I'm glad all branches of the Weasley family were declared blood traitors generations ago. Everyone expects us to do shameful, non pure-blood things."

Luckily for everyone's sanity, Moody spotted an opening in the traffic ahead. Gripping the steering wheel even tighter, he floored the accelerator.

Forty minutes later, Tonks, disguised as an exhausted mother, urged Ron and Hermione towards the barrier entrance to Platform 9 3/4, while Lupin and Mrs Weasley, who had been waiting at King's Cross for the others to arrive, flanked Harry and Ginny. Moody, who had exchanged his chauffer's hat for a faded and slightly tatty bowler so as to look like a porter, brought up the rear with a trolley loaded with assorted pets and trunks.

"Hurry, hurry!" Mrs Weasley urged her children on. "You mustn't miss the train! It's still the safest way to get you to school, goodness knows, what with all the Death Eaters around these days."

Tonks stood at the barrier, clearing the wall of a couple of loitering Muggles, and Lupin disappeared through the wall, presumably to keep an eye out on the other side. First Ron, then Hermione ducked their heads and ran towards the barrier. It was always easier to get through as fast as possible, and it was better for none of them to be noticed by nearby Muggles.

They were met on the other side by the sight of the Hogwarts Express and accompanying milling families. Lupin hovered to one side of the barrier and nodded to Ron and Hermione as they emerged. They moved away from the wall to create some space and turned back to look for the others just as Harry and Ginny appeared behind them. Harry reached out and grabbed the handle of Ginny's trolley just before it careened into Hermione and knocked both girls over.

"Sorry about that," said Harry, puffing slightly. "It almost got away from us. Ginny swerved to avoid a pigeon, and I think her trolley must have hit a rock or something."

The rest of the adults all came through the barrier together and Mrs Weasley rushed to hustle the children onto the train. "Have a lovely term, all of you, and I'll see you all at Christmas. Yes, even you Harry," - he made a slight noise of surprise - "and I hope your parents will let you come again, Hermione dear." She hugged each of them in turn, kissing their cheeks and straightening Ginny's collar.

Moody and Lupin helped load the trunks into the last carriage of the train, the only one that still had empty compartments. Moody, of course, had first checked the compartment thoroughly for any spells and hexes. After the last trunk had been stowed, he stopped and looked at Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny.

"You'd better all be careful this term. If you don't recognise an owl, don't accept the letter unless it's been thoroughly checked. Check all your usual correspondence, as well. Don't let Lucius Malfoy's boy or the children of any other Death Eaters you know near you. And as for you, Potter," Moody swung around to face Harry, pointing straight at him, "stay out of as much trouble as you can. Keep your head down. If trouble's coming after you, there's no point in standing up and welcoming it with open arms or foolishness. And all of you remember, CONSTANT VIGILANCE! I want to hear you repeat that."

Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny, more or less together, bellowed "CONSTANT VIGILANCE" right back at Moody. Ron folded his arms while doing so and tried to look terrifying, staring at random people on the station with a menacing expression. Hermione, when she glanced at him, couldn't help herself from giggling helplessly. Ron looked over at her and winked.

"Good," Moody said gruffly, nodding. "Now mind you remember all of that."

Crookshanks yowled as his basket was accidentally bumped into a wall, and Hermione turned to coo and fuss over him. The others all headed into the compartment to arrange themselves comfortably. Remus stopped in the doorway and stared at the interior of the carriage curiously. The corridor was narrower than that of the other carriages and the door of each compartment had a glass window in the top half that could slide open. The floorboards and the wood trimmings were also a much darker wood than Hermione was used to seeing in the other carriages.

"Strange," he said. "I thought they'd retired all of these carriages years ago. They bought the current ones some years back, as they are easier to spell and they lost half of the older ones in a crash during the first war. This carriage is full of memories, though."

"Did you, Sirius and Harry's parents used to travel to school in carriages like these?" Hermione looked first at Lupin, then at the walls of the carriage inquisitively, as if they could answer her.

Lupin laughed. "We did indeed."

The whistle blew. Lupin smiled once more at Hermione, then jumped out of the carriage, shutting the door behind him. "Have a lovely year, Hermione, and study hard. I think you'll need all the spells that you've learnt soon enough."

Heeding that reminder of her duties, Hermione waved and turned into the compartment, carrying Crookshanks' basket carefully.


	2. 1: Patrolling the Express

**_Author's Note:_ **_Same as the Prologue  
_

**Chapter 1: Patrolling the Express**  
by Zahri Seb Melitor

Once the train was underway, Hermione turned to Ron. "We'd better go up the front to the prefect carriage and report in for the meeting."

Ron looked irritated, but sighed. "I suppose so," he said reluctantly. "We could see if they'll let us get our patrolling done early, so it's out of the way."

Hermione stood up and opened the door. Crookshanks jumped up from the corner and sauntered over to curl up where she'd just been sitting. "Oh you!" she said, shaking her head in amusement. "Come on, Ron."

"Maybe we might spot Malfoy," said Ron, looking more enthusiastic. "It must be _hard_ for him, not seeing his father all summer. He might even be stupid enough to try and attack us again!" A bright smile now was evident on his face.

"Ron...." said Hermione warningly, but Ginny was already chuckling.

"Let him have his fun, Hermione."

With a sigh of exasperation and a mutter that distinctly sounded like "Boys!", Hermione left the compartment, Ron following close behind. He poked his head back around the door to note, "She needs someone to remind her that prefectship isn't everything, every now and then."

Harry looked over to catch Ginny's eye and grinned at her. She started to giggle; a giggle that was infectious enough that Harry's grin broadened to a chuckle and soon enough, their amusement had developed into full blown hysterical laughter. It was hard to stop.

A couple of minutes later, after Harry and Ginny had both managed to finally calm down, Neville looked in the door, Trevor tightly clutched in one fist. "Can I sit in here? It's just that everything up the front is full, and it would be nice not to sit on my own. All the other compartments down here just have extra trunks piled in them."

"'Course you can," said Ginny, a happy smile on her face. "Do you want a hand with your trunk?"

"I think I can manage, but if you could hold Trevor for a bit, that would make everything much easier."

Ginny accepted the small, clammy handful that was Trevor, while Harry stepped outside to help with the trunk. As the two boys manhandled the awkward case through the doorway, Harry spotted Luna drifting past, with the latest copy of _The Quibbler_ rolled up and tucked into a back pocket, a Hogwarts robe hanging over one arm and a pair of gold phoenixes dangling under her ears.

With one last heave, the trunk slid into the compartment, and a few kicks pushed it out of the way. Harry turned and, remembering last June, called out to Luna, "Would you like to come and sit with us?"

"That would be lovely. Hermione told me that you were down here, Harry." Luna glided back towards the door. "I put my trunk in one of the compartments up there a bit." She gestured casually towards the front of the train. "Can I _not_ sit next to the window? I find it's easier to think if I don't." She neatly folded her robe and put it down on one of the seats.

Ginny looked around the compartment, and then reached into her pocket to pull out a deck of cards in a familiar bright red box. "Anyone else want to play Exploding Snap?"

Fourteen games later, eight of which Neville had won, Ron and Hermione reappeared. Ron was sporting a bruise on his right cheek, and Hermione was scolding him about it.

"Fighting in the corridors! Right in front of those first years! I don't know where you got the idea that prefects should be setting examples like that! How could you, Ron, really?" Hermione huffed as she threw him a scathing look.

Ron laid a placating hand on Hermione's arm. "I know that prefects aren't supposed to just stand aside when someone's bullying little Muggle-borns. I know that prefects are supposed to stand up to other prefects when they think the other one's doing the wrong thing. And I especially know that Malfoy's a bullying scumbag who should be stripped of any responsibility."

"Well, of course we needed to stop Malfoy. His behaviour is dreadful and completely unlike how a prefect is supposed to act, but punching him was stupid. You completely forgot about Crabbe and Goyle. Besides, we should really have just reported him to the Head Boy and Girl and to the Professors at school. It doesn't look good, when you attacked the person; that's what got Harry his Quidditch suspension last year!"

Ginny looked up, interested. "What was Ron doing?"

Looking disgusted, Ron answered. "He had half a dozen little first years and was yelling at them because one of them accidentally set off an Exploding Chocolate Frog, and it splattered all over his robes. I don't think most of them even knew that the frog was going to do that."

"You can't fault Ron for looking after those first years, Hermione," said Neville quietly, looking up from dealing out cards for a fifteenth game. "No one sensible wants to meet Malfoy on their first day."

_And that_, Harry thought, _was an understatement_. Malfoy was a bully, and the younger students were easy for him to prey upon. The fact that he was a prefect allowed him to isolate and humiliate some of the younger students, just for fun. It was a mark of how comfortable and confident he was feeling on the train, that he would do such a thing right in the middle of a corridor just after a prefect meeting. Malfoy was usually smug and secure in his self-assured behaviour, but he generally had 'official' approval of his actions before he'd deliberately do anything in front of other authority figures.

Luna picked up her pile and straightened the cards thoughtfully, as if completely blind to the fact that they could explode at any moment. "He's the sort of boy who'd drown Crups for fun and to hear their death cries. There's lots of Dark Magic that you can do with creatures that you killed with your own hands."

The idea of Malfoy, with a sadistic smile on his face, slaughtering small animals was a grim one. Even Hermione, for once, did not disagree with Luna. The six just sat there mutely, avoiding each other's eyes.

Ron cleared his throat to break the silence. "Can I play a hand of Snap during this game, too?"

Neville, who had been nervously rearranging the cards in his pile, turned to look at Ron. "Of course," he said, his voice pitched a little higher than usual, "except I'll have to redeal all the cards."

"Don't worry, Ron can have mine." Harry stood up and proffered his cards to Ron. "I think I'll go for a walk, to clear my head."

"Oh, Harry...!" Hermione started, but Ginny also stood up, as if to head her off. Harry felt thankful to escape Hermione's mollycoddling, which was more claustrophobic than the cupboard under the stairs; he gave Ginny a smile to show his appreciatiation. He almost could have kissed her, if not for the whole thing that she was a girl, that she had previously had a crush on him, and that he _really_ wasn't all that confident with the whole kissing thing yet. Or even the hugging.

"I'll come with you, Harry. I could use a walk, too. Hermione, why don't you play for me, instead?"

Ginny deposited her cards in Hermione's lap before she had time to protest, and then Harry and Ginny walked out of the compartment. As they headed up the train together, he turned to her. "Thanks."

"No problem. I'm sure you didn't need Hermione on your back right now. Am I right to presume that we're going to keep an eye out for Malfoy and any dirty tricks he might be up to?"

"I just thought that he might need a reminder about what happens if he does stupid stuff like earlier. Evidently, the last two years of train rides haven't taught him anything." _Except to go for less-capable targets instead of directly confronting me_, Harry silently added to himself.

A small boy with a shock of red-brown hair, dressed in jeans and a figured orange t-shirt, raced down the corridor, careening into Ginny in his hurry to get past. As she wobbled, Harry stretched out a hand to steady her and straightened the little boy with the other.

"Harry?" The small, familiar face was full of shock, panic, and mild disbelief.

"Mark? What are you doing on the train?" Harry stared at Mark Evans in astonishment. Hadn't Fudge said that there weren't any other registered wizards in Little Whinging? Though, if Mrs Figg could slip through the cracks, it was possible that Mark had also done so, being Muggle-born.

"Going to Hogwarts," Mark replied matter-of-factly, shrugging off Harry's hand, and then peering behind him nervously. "Only, it looks like Hogwarts doesn't want _me_."

"Who said that to you?" asked Ginny sharply. "Of course Hogwarts wants you, if you're a wizard. You wouldn't be here if they didn't."

Mark pointed behind himself, back towards the front of the train. "Back there. He had blonde hair, all slicked back like so," he demonstrated, using one hand to pull the top of his unruly hair smooth, "and he came into our compartment, telling us we shouldn't be on the train at all."

"Malfoy." The way Ginny said the word made it sound like a growl. She drew her wand quickly, Harry following suit less than a moment later. "Come with us. He's an idiot, and I think he needs reminding of what happens when he interferes in things he shouldn't," Ginny said.

"Bat Bogey Hex?" Harry asked with a grin, as he and Ginny strode up the corridor, Mark jogging behind to keep up with their longer legs. A list of all the hexes, curses and jinxes he knew was running through his mind, as he thought of the most appropriate ones to use.

"You bet. I think he's even scared of the things." Ginny sounded far more cheerful about that fact than Mrs Weasley would ever like her to. Her brown eyes sparkled as she grinned back at Harry.

Mark tugged on Harry's sleeve a few moments later. "Just there," he said. The door to the compartment was ominously shut.

Harry took a deep breath and tried pushing on the door. It was locked. He quietly muttered, "_Alohomora_," and then pushed the door open.

Malfoy was standing in the middle of the compartment, Crabbe and Goyle on either side of him, in the middle of a longwinded speech about how the younger years were supposed to show Prefects respect, and be useful and of assistance. Apparently, being 'useful' involved going to try and find the lady who looked after the food trolley and buy some sweets from her before she made her rounds. Harry winced, seeing the poor, bewildered first years. From Malfoy's volume, it was obvious that he'd cast a Silencing Charm on the door so as not to be disturbed.

Harry pointed his wand straight at Malfoy. Ginny stood on his right, her wand also aimed and steady. Behind Harry on his left, he felt Mark draw his wand as well.

Harry coughed. Malfoy spun around, Crabbe and Goyle following suit a few moments later.

"This isn't right," Harry said firmly. "This is wrong. Why don't you go back to the front of the train, and posture in front of some other Slytherins, and leave the younger students alone."

"Is that supposed to scare me?" Malfoy sardonically raised an eyebrow. "I believe I am the prefect here, not you or that red-headed slut beside you. I'll be reporting anyone who interferes with my duties to Professor Snape." He turned to look at Ginny. "Tell me, does he pay you to tag along, or does he just supply you with ... _benefits_?"

Ginny became as bright red as her hair and threw a Conjunctivitus Curse at Malfoy, just as Harry lunged forward. He was going to _kill_ Malfoy.... Harry knocked her arm askew, and the curse hit Crabbe instead, who started clawing at his eyes and bellowing. Goyle, on the other side of Malfoy, stepped forward to grab Harry, but tripped over when his legs wouldn't separate. Harry turned to see Mark smile grimly.

"Leg-Locker Curse," Mark replied to Harry's questioning look. "It seemed to be one of the more useful spells in my Charms book, so I learnt it."

Harry smiled back and turned to face Malfoy. "That was a warning. Will you desist?"

The red light of a Stunner flew straight towards Harry. His Quidditch reflexes took over, and he threw himself sideways in front of Mark. Harry heard a muffled thump, and an arm banged into him as Mark dropped to the ground behind him. Harry pushed himself back up with one hand and cast a full Body-Bind.

Malfoy dropped like a lump of concrete, with flickering black shapes squeaking and flapping in his face. Harry turned to Ginny, who was tucking her wand back into a pocket.

"You ruined my fun," Ginny complained, pouting and looking like a cat seeking attention. "My Bat Bogey's no use if he can't react to it. What should we do with them?"

"Dump them in the corridor. Some bleeding heart will surely be bothered to lift the curses before we get to school," said a dismissive voice from the corridor.

Harry whipped around. Zacharias Smith, surrounded by Ernie Macmillan, Susan Bones and a handful of other Hufflepuffs, all of whom had their wands out in case of further trouble, were standing in the corridor. Zacharias continued, "We heard the ruckus from next door and came to see what was happening. Want a hand?"

Harry, Ginny, Ernie, Zacharias, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Wayne Hopkins pushed and pulled the three Slytherins out into the corridor in pairs, making sure to bump them on every corner and sharp edge possible. Zacharias calmly stunned Crabbe "to stop his moans", and Wayne put a full Body-Bind on Goyle, who had only just thought of reaching for his wand. Susan, Hannah Abbot and Megan Jones headed into the compartment, each targeting one or two first years to comfort and calm down. Susan also produced a large bag of Chocolate Frogs from one pocket to help distract them. Several minutes later, even the most hysterical first year was considerably calmer and looking happier, as Ernie explained to them all about Chocolate Frog Cards and Hannah disappeared next door to find her own collection to display. Brightly coloured wrappers festooned the floor of the compartment.

Harry and Ginny quietly slipped away, just in case Ernie decided to start on the "this is Harry Potter" speech next, and headed back to their end of the train. Hermione looked up from her Advanced Transfiguration book to glare disgustedly at them.

"I don't know _what_ you two were up to, and quite frankly, I don't want to know. However, I can and will take points if I find out that you did anything stupid."

"We only stopped Malfoy from preying on first years," Ginny said calmly, collapsing next to Crookshanks and absentmindedly scratching him behind the ears after he head butted her hand a few times. "Besides, Ernie was there, and _he_ didn't lecture us. Has the food trolley been through here yet?" Hermione began to fume silently.

Neville checked his watch. "It's normally come past by now," he said, puzzled. "I wonder what delayed it."

Ron shrugged. Harry walked over to his trunk, pushed up under the windowsill, to try and find the sandwiches Mrs Weasley had made for him earlier that morning. Locating them, he sat down and watched as Hermione became more and more red with anger. He unwrapped the greaseproof paper surrounding both sandwiches and took a bite of the chicken. Hermione started muttering to herself. Harry was rather surprised that smoke wasn't pouring out her ears. Luna, who had been hidden behind her copy of _The Quibbler_, turned the page.

Ron dug out his chess set. "Does anyone want to play?" he asked hopefully. "Harry? Hermione?"

Hermione took a deep breath and set her book down. "No, I will not play chess, Ron. I will, however, change into my uniform. Perhaps _then_ someone will listen to me and respect my authority, for once. Ron, you can get changed too. You're a prefect and should be representing the school." She glared menacingly. It was an equal-opportunity glare - all of the others in the compartment got an equal share of the glower.

Ginny looked up from petting Crookshanks. "Better yet, why don't _all_ of you boys go and change next door?" Deliberately, she pulled off her jacket and started to undo the buttons on her shirt, staring meaningfully at each of the boys.

All three boys got the message. Grabbing their robes, they beat a hasty retreat, their faces turning interesting shades of red.

Once Harry, Ron and Neville had all changed and waited a few minutes to give the girls some extra privacy, they rapped on the door. "Are you decent?" called Neville in a wavering voice.

There were a few stifled giggles, and then Ginny called out, "Not quite yet. Give us another few minutes." The ensuing giggles were louder than before, and definitely came from more than two people.

Harry sighed and looked out the window at the countryside passing by. The current bit looked almost deserted, like much of the route. There were a few flocks of sheep grazing in their fields and half a dozen houses in sight. Even though it was summer, smoke still curled out of the chimney of one cottage. Despite the grey clouds gathering in the distance, the sun glinted on a small pool in a nearby stream, which had several ducks swimming in it and investigating the local wildlife. Up ahead there was a smallish copse of trees, quite near a bend in the railway tracks. _Aren't leaves on the railway tracks one of the main reasons for train derailment in autumn?_ Harry mused.

Luna slid the door open, looking neat and tidy in her robes, her hair pulled back and tied smartly with a Ravenclaw-blue ribbon. "You can come in now. We're all finished." Harry noted that Ginny's hair was now braided with gold ribbons, and Hermione's hair had been pulled back into a bun with a black scrunchie. Ginny was carefully threading a handful of hairpins into the mass, to try and hold it in place. Hermione now looked considerably calmer.

Ron took one look at the girls' hair and snorted. He grabbed his chess set and looked at Harry. "Well? Do you want to suffer crushing defeat at my hands, once again?"

Seating themselves on the floor, Harry and Ron started setting out the chess pieces, when the natural light streaming through the window suddenly dimmed as a cloud passed over the sun. A loud explosion sounded, quickly followed by several smaller ones, and the train jolted forward with a loud crash.

With a flicker, the lights went out.


	3. 2: But Where's the Food Trolley?

****

**Chapter 2: But Where's the Food Trolley?**  
By Zahri Seb Melitor

Ginny bit her lip to stop herself from screaming. This was too much like the time, three years ago, when Dementors had boarded the train to search for Sirius. The many colours of different spells glittered outside the window for a moment, lending a sickly tint to the light, and then everything went pitch black.

Scant seconds that nevertheless felt like hours later, the lights suddenly flickered back on. Bright sunlight shone through the window. Ginny rushed over to the window to peer out, accidentally stepping on Luna's foot, the hem of Hermione's robes and tripping over Ron's legs. There was not a cloud in the sky.

Harry joined her. "Strange," he muttered quietly.

"What's strange?"

"Just a few minutes ago, there were all these clouds in the sky. You see that field there?" He pointed. "I'm sure there were only sheep out there, but now there are cows. That house was much bigger, as well, and _that_ one had smoke coming out its chimney. It doesn't now."

Ginny stared at the landscape before her. "Are you sure? We could have just moved quite a bit."

"No. Look back – there's that big bend in the track, with those trees next to it. We're almost doubling back on ourselves. I don't like this. Something's definitely wrong."

"It definitely is!" Ron said in a muffled voice from behind Ginny. "And the food trolley _still_ hasn't come around yet! Where is it?"

Ginny turned to look and saw him scoffing down the sandwiches that Harry had opened earlier. She shook her head in exasperation and turned back to look out the window. Ron was _always_ hungry.

"They would have become stale!" Ron protested, obviously having noticed the disapproving shake of Ginny's head.

Hermione sighed. "No, they wouldn't have, because Harry would have eaten them. You didn't even ask him if he still wanted them!"

"I don't mind. Let Ron have them," said Harry. He was still distracted by the scenery outside the train.

The compartment door slid open with a grinding clunk. Ginny turned and was confronted by a tallish, red-haired boy. He had to be a first or second year – Ginny knew she would recognise him if he were any older. He looked familiar, a lot like pictures of Bill or Ron when they were younger, but Ginny _knew_ all of her first and second cousins, and most of her third cousins by reputation, at least. He could not be a Weasley, for all his resemblance.

"Yes?" Hermione got to her feet. "Can I help you?"

The boy looked a bit nervous. "I was wondering if you knew what caused the lights to flash off and on a minute or so ago?" He looked around the compartment, his eyes lingering on Ron and Ginny. His brow creased with puzzlement. "Do I know you two? You look awfully like some of my cousins. What're your names? I'm Billy Weasley."

Ginny froze. It couldn't be. It had to be a trick. "That... that wouldn't be short for anything, would it?" she whispered.

Billy rolled his eyes. "It stands for Bilius, after my uncle, but no one calls me that except Great-Aunt Dorothea. Most of the family seems to think it's wishing me ill-luck to call me Bilius, because they..."

"Think you might be visited by a Grim," Ginny finished.

With a smile, Billy nodded. "That's right! How'd you know that, anyway? _Are_ you my cousin?"

Ginny could not think of a non-incriminatory answer to such a loaded question. She reached into her pocket to take out the battered lunar watch that had been bequeathed to her as the only female descendant of Aurelia Weasley years ago. Wrinkling her forehead, she stared at the display, certain that it wasn't working. _The planets were all in the wrong places...._

Ginny looked up at Billy and took a deep breath. "I think we might distantly be related, and I'm sorry, but I don't know what was wrong with the lights," she said as calmly as possible. "Would you excuse me? I'd like to check something." She opened her trunk and rifled through it until she found her Astronomy book, and then opened it to check the star maps. Marking a page with a finger and looking up, she saw Billy had disappeared, closing the door behind him, and the other five staring at her silently.

"Do you have a current Almanac in your trunk, Luna?" Ginny asked, her voice rising to a squeak. Luna looked startled.

"I think so. I'll have to go and get my trunk to check, though."

"I'll give you a hand." Neville stood up, looking a little startled at his own daring. The two walked out of the compartment.

Ginny started fretting, looking back through her Astronomy book to double check her conclusion. _It couldn't be true, it couldn't,_ Ginny thought. _The watch must just have finally worn out and need parts replaced. A lot of parts._ She pulled out a piece of parchment and a lead pencil she occasionally used to sketch with and started jotting down calculations and tiny star maps, hoping that she would find where she had gone wrong.

"Billy looked a lot like you did, Ron, when I first met you," said Hermione in a strained voice. "Is he a cousin or something? Do you know him?" She was obviously trying to fill the silence.

"I don't think so. Bilius is a common enough name in my family. And actually, he looked like Bill," Ron replied shortly.

"Ah." Hermione lapsed into silence again, staring at Ginny and her sheet of calculations.

Luna and Neville finally reappeared, hauling Luna's trunk between the two of them. They set it down on the floor. "Some of the younger students seem to have moved into the compartment where Luna left her trunk, so we decided to bring it back and save us worrying later." Neville swept his hair out of his eyes with the back of one hand, pushing her trunk over to one side with his feet.

Luna opened the trunk and lifted off the top robe to scrabble through the books beneath it. She found the book and obligingly handed it over. Ginny opened it and looked at a few pages, flipping to '1st September'. Flipping back to the cover to check the title and year, she closed her eyes, still unable to believe what she was seeing. Taking a deep breath, to keep getting oxygen to her brain, she opened her eyes and checked her lunar watch once more time, in the vain hope that it had changed (which it hadn't) and closed both books.

"What's wrong?" asked Hermione, looking concerned.

Ginny twisted her robe in her hands, noticing that it looked less faded than usual and replied, "Nothing, apart from the fact that it's 1976 and that really was just Bill in here. He's a first year."

Five minutes later, Ginny had shown her workings to Hermione and Luna, and they both agreed that the likelihood of the calculations being wrong was infinitesimally small. Hermione was trying to explain the numbers to Ron and Neville, who were both looking confused, and Harry was pacing, listing everything in the compartment that was different, starting with the initials on their trunks (RK, GK, LA, NP, HE and HP) and how much less battered Ron and Ginny's trunks looked, and going through to the watch on his wrist (now gold instead of black) and Luna's hair-ribbon (now with bronze eagles on the blue). Luna had investigated the contents of her trunk and found all her things to be similar to what she had packed, except the textbooks were all earlier editions, and her collection of recent editions of _The Quibbler_ had completely disappeared. She was now reading a stack of letters from the holidays.

"Apparently Harry, we had a surprise party for you on your birthday just like the one Mrs Weasley threw for you," Luna remarked, scanning one letter, "except that there weren't Order members all on high alert, and it wasn't at the Burrow. Neville had his party the day before. It really seems that all of this stuff in the carriage belongs to us, except to an us born in a different time to different parents."

Ron snorted, and Hermione finally abandoned her explanations, frustrated that Ron and Neville could not grasp what she saw as a simple concept. Ginny rather thought that the important bit to understand was that the date was apparently different, instead of how she had arrived at that conclusion. Ron and Neville had certainly grasped that part. However, she would not say that to Hermione at the moment, since she looked ready to tear her hair out.

"You're serious? I wonder where the owners of these trunks are. They can't have all gone to the toilet or something – surely they'd be back by now?" Hermione looked worried.

"Mmmhmm." Luna said absently. "These letters _are_ about people who sound remarkably like all of us. As to where they are – I don't know. Incidentally, it seems that the 'HP' trunk belongs to you, Hermione, and the 'HE' to Harry. The 'E' on Harry's trunk stands for 'Evans', and the 'P' on yours is for 'Puckle'."

"Wasn't Evans your mother's maiden name, Harry?" asked Hermione curiously.

"Oh, and Hermione's trunk's painted red now." Harry stopped pacing and enumerating his list. He turned to face Hermione. "I think it was my mother's family name, but apparently now it's also my father's surname or, at least, Harry Evans' father's surname." His voice was past incredulity and into unnaturally calm acceptance of whatever was happening.

Ginny started sorting through her own trunk. The clothing inside was rather less faded than she generally had, and there were an awful lot more bell bottoms and sparkles on the Muggle clothes than she'd ever seen outside of the Muggle Dress-up Clothing Bin in the second-hand robes shop. Opening one of her textbooks, she noted the name in the cover: 'Ginevra King'. Digging a bit deeper, she discovered a pink jumper rather like the sort her mother generally knitted for her, and a flat wooden box. The box contained the same style of dreadful poetry Ginny had written as a twelve year old, and the dates at the top suggested that this had been written at a similar age. It wasn't until she reached the very bottom that she discovered something really atypical – a diary, with a dark blue cover.

Pressing her finger to the lock on the front – the standard magical essence lock used on wizarding diaries to secure them, but that could be broken with a few minutes effort – the spell binding the diary closed unlocked, and Ginny could leaf through. The inscription on the first page read, _"For Ginny, from her loving mother, 1969"._ Reading entries at random, she soon realised that there was a Never-ending Page Charm on the book. It looked like something to read through some other time, in order to work out what had happened in her past.

Neville clapped a hand to his pocket and turned out a toad that looked like, well, a toad. "Trevor!" he said happily. This Trevor, however, seemed to not be such an aspiring Houdini as the other one, and appeared quite happy to have been tucked away in Neville's pocket.

Neville finding Trevor led to a pet check by Harry, Hermione and Ron. Harry had another beautiful snowy owl who, as the small plaque on her cage cited, was called Elara. She looked and acted in a dignified manner, fondly nipping Harry's fingers as he stroked her, and glaring at Ron's owl, apparently called Maddie. The two cages were side-by-side, and Maddie kept trying to groom Elara through the bars. Elara cracked her beak at Maddie whenever Maddie got too close, but it did not seem to deter the cheeky owl.

Curled up in one corner of the compartment, on one of Hermione's woollen jumpers which he had snagged from her open trunk, lay an orange striped cat, not long out of kittenhood; the cat had a bottlebrush tail, a squashed face and distinct orange stripes. His appearance, Hermione's broad smile at the sight of him, and the way he responded to the call of 'Crookshanks' left no doubt in anyone's mind that the Hermione here was Crookshanks' first owner.

"How come he's lived so long?" Harry said, as he rummaged through his trunk for a packet of Owl Treats for Elara and Maddie, to see if they would calm Maddie down and distract her from annoying Elara.

"Cats can have quite long lives, living twenty or so years in some cases, and Kneazles have even longer life spans." Hermione squatted down and scratched Crookshanks behind the ears. "Crookshanks is half-Kneazle and very clever. He's likely to die of illness and old age, unless his curiosity gets the better of him."

"Does that mean that Mrs Norris will be around Hogwarts?" Neville looked worried at the prospect. Ginny was used to people disliking the old cat, because she got so many of them into trouble, but she still thought that Mrs Norris was quite a clever cat. It was just that Mrs Norris was generally on the other side in a Them vs. Us conflict. Ginny could, however, appreciate how annoying it was to be spotted by Mrs Norris when you were out of bed late at night – it had almost happened to her quite a few times.

Hermione sighed and nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. She could very well be around."

"Oh, she's not too bad if you stay out of her way on bad days. She likes fish," said Luna. "You just don't sneak around her, invisible or not. She doesn't like that."

"Do you mean we can _bribe_ her with fish?" asked Ron, brightening up.

Ginny snorted. _How like Ron to think of that possibility immediately._ "No. Trust me, plenty of people have tried, and it doesn't work. Ever."

Ron looked crestfallen. "You had to crush the only sign of hope I've had in five years with that dratted cat," he said, using several more words to describe Mrs Norris that his mother would never approve of. "Plus, the food trolley _still_ hasn't been past, and it looks like it's not ever going to."

Harry retrieved a box of Owl Treats and began feeding a couple to the owls. Elara daintily held hers in her beak, before swallowing it. Maddie just tossed hers up in the air and gulped it down as it fell into her mouth. After searching through his trunk, several robes and jumpers dangled over the rim of it and the handle of his broom poked out.

"Harry, check the trunk. What model's that broomstick?" Ron looked panicked, as if he'd just thought something terrible had happened.

Harry fished the broom out. "It's a Nimbus 1500, apparently," he said, peering at the golden writing on the handle. Ron groaned and banged his head on the wall.

"Damn! Your beautiful Firebolt, all gone... and there won't even be a better racing broom than that Nimbus 1500 on the market for another nine years!"

Harry looked curiously at Ron. "That's a very long time. Why on earth wasn't there a better one out sooner?"

"The war's going to get worse and drag in everyone and everything within the next two years," Ron explained. "The broom companies didn't have much of a reason to make new models during that time, as the Quidditch League was cancelled between 1978 and 1981. It wasn't until the market settled down after the war that they could afford to release new models – buying a broom during the war just because it was a new design was considered a waste of resources."

Harry looked crushed at that pronouncement. Hermione shook her head in disgust. "Boys! Always worrying about Quidditch and brooms, rather than more urgent things like 'what subjects are we taking'?"

A look of horror crossed Neville's face. "What if I'm down for Potions? I won't do it; I swear I'll drop it."

Ginny listened to Hermione reassuring Neville that he would be able to change subjects, then panicking about whether she'd still be able to take all the ones she had chosen. Holding the diary in her hands, she started trying to figure out what had happened. Where was the girl who this diary belonged to, the girl who had written it? It responded to her, yet it must have responded to the other girl, as well. It _must_ hold the key to part of this mystery.

"Guys," Ginny's voice cracked. She tried again. "Everyone, I think we should just act normally when we get to school. Do everything we always do; walk into the Hall, sit down at our House tables, watch the Sorting, ignore whatever Professor Dumbledore warns us not to do, and listen to Ron complain about how long the food takes to arrive."

Ron and Hermione looked offended, but Ginny ignored them. Considering Harry, Ron and Hermione's current track record, she was surprised that the three did not just set out to investigate whatever the Headmaster had warned them not to go near, as the twins always had.

"Shouldn't we go and see Dumbledore and tell him what happened?" Hermione looked worried. "Wouldn't it be better if he found out from us?"

"No!" Ginny didn't realise that she had just shouted. "No, it wouldn't. What do you think you'd do if someone told you that they think they're from the future? You'd think them cracked. I think the best thing to do is just do what we usually do. We don't want to attract attention or mess anything up."

Hermione's eyes widened and she began panicking. "You're right! We can't tell anyone what happens – we can't change _anything_! What if we've already changed something?"

Harry shook his head. "That's what you said in third year, and if I hadn't cast that Patronus, we wouldn't be here today."

"Yes, but we can't directly interfere in anything that happens or tell anyone things. It's hard enough for the rest of us, but Harry, your _life_ depends on no one knowing what's going to happen."

Harry stared down at the floor and mumbled something to himself, but Hermione ignored him. Ginny caught the last syllable, "...ill."

Neville looked worried. "What if someone directly asks us about something that happens in the future?"

"Then we lie," said Ginny matter-of-factly. "We lie and tell them that we don't know, or we say something incredibly vague. The only problem will be lying to someone like Professor Dumbledore – he can always tell."

Harry took a deep breath. "None of us are to look Dumbledore in the eye – that just helps his Legilimency. Don't let him touch you." He sighed.

"How much Occlumency do you actually know, Harry?" asked Hermione. "I need an honest answer."

"Not enough. I suppose we're all going to have to learn it, though. There might be books in the library about it."

"Only in the Restricted Section," Hermione said, disapprovingly.

Ron shrugged. "Then we break in and read them, or we get them out for something to do with Defence, or Hermione can suck up to the librarian and ask to borrow them in that breathy, fascinated voice she's so good at." Hermione elbowed Ron in the ribcage.

"Why don't we discuss this once we get to school?" Luna said calmly, looking up from her letters again. "Anyway, I've found more surnames! Mine's apparently Alderton, and Neville's is Puff."

"Puff, Neville? As in Hufflepuff?" Harry smiled.

"Don't tell me that you're the Heir of Hufflepuff, mate, and are the only person able to access, oh, the Knitting Needle of Doom that is hidden in some faraway corner of the school and is used to kill ghosts? Because that's just not on. The only Knitting Needle of Doom I know of is the one that makes me a maroon jumper every Christmas," said Ron. "But if there really is a ghost-killing Needle, could it get rid of Peeves? I'm sick of him dumping buckets of soapy water over the students, just to see if we'll melt, even though his test has failed the other eighty seven times he's tried."

Neville smiled broadly. "Sadly I'm not the Heir of Hufflepuff, as far as I know. If I do ever discover the Knitting Needle of Doom, though, I'll be sure to tell all of you about it."

"I wonder if it could sever Nearly-Headless Nick's neck. He'd remember you always!" Ginny imagined the delighted ghost at Hallowe'en, recounting his poem about how he died, with an extra verse on the end about the valiant Gryffindor who made him fully headless.

The rest of the train ride became a cheerful conversation full of laughter and jokes, as the six chatted like the friends and adolescents they were, for once not worrying about Dark wizards trying to kill them all.

_Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in posting this. I went away on holidays, then my official beta did, and then exams crept up on me. Thanks to Julie, Susan and Pauline for all their help._

_A note on the timeframe of this story – the dates I'm using are not quite either of the generally accepted timelines based around the Weasley family. Charlie is eight and a half years older than Percy, placing his birth year as 1967. Bill is two years older than Charlie, and born in 1965. The rest of the family is normal. And also, because several people have already asked, James, Lily and co. are not in sixth year in this fic. They all started school in 1970, and are therefore glorious seventh-years._


End file.
